


There is much that I still want to tell you

by spatialvoid



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:59:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6213586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spatialvoid/pseuds/spatialvoid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"The past few weeks have been quite a lot to take in, haven't they?"</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is much that I still want to tell you

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _Now Is Not The Time_ by CHVRCHES. 
> 
> This takes place on the evening of the day Peggy was supposed to leave for New York, and assumes that they haven't yet found out about Thompson.

There’s something about a California sunset that takes her breath away. 

Sitting here, on Daniel’s back stoop, it’s almost possible to forget everything that’s brought them here – the stress, the near-death experiences, the lost opportunities.  It’s almost possible to forget all the lives she has damaged over the past few weeks in her (their) attempt to save the world.

Almost being the key word.

She gazes at the swirling clouds, tinted rose and gold and periwinkle, and she thinks about Whitney Frost, locked up, her brilliant mind distorted by her frantic, maniacal lust for control.  She thinks about Jason, working for Howard, probably happy – but forever changed.  And, oh, she thinks about Mr. Jarvis, about Ana, about what she unwittingly stole from them, about everything that will never be quite the same. 

Daniel’s voice comes through the screen door.  “Hey, Peg, could you give me a hand here?” 

She stands, steps inside to the kitchen.  Daniel hands her a glass of wine and walks to the door, opens it with his elbow.  “I thought you might want a drink,” he says, and they move to sit on the stoop again, the sunset still achingly beautiful.

She must look rather morose, because Daniel laces their hands together and gives her a soft, concerned look.  “What’s wrong?”

For a moment, she thinks of keeping her thoughts to herself, of dismissing his question, of instead sitting in the quiet, but she doesn’t really want to.  “I…” she says, and then she falters, wondering where to begin.  “The past few weeks have been quite a lot to take in, haven’t they?”

Daniel hums his assent.  “You can say that again.”

She gives him a small smile. 

He lets out an exhale, squeezes her hand, and runs his thumb over her knuckles.  “I’m just happy to be happy,” he says, a soft, contented grin on his face, and her heart feels wrenched with guilt, with fear.

“I worry that our happiness comes at the cost of others’,” she blurts, and he looks at her, bewildered.

“Peg…” he says, and his voice sounds tenuous, fragile, and it shakes her.

“Ana… Mr. Jarvis… Jason… even Whitney,” she whispers, and he sets down his glass on the step and wraps his arm around her, pulling her close.  “All of them were happy, before this case, before I got involved.”  She inhales.  “You were happy.”

“I’m happy now,” he says, and there’s a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Yes, but I still made a right mess of things for you,” she replies, and he looks at her, clenches his jaw.  He looks determined, she thinks, and she hopes that it’s the good kind.

“You are _not_ responsible for what happened between Violet and I,” he says forcefully.  “That’s on me.”

She closes her eyes, nods.  She knows he’s right, but it still stings, thinking of Violet’s selflessness, of her kindness, of the way she would have let Peggy stay with her while she was recovering, even having deduced what she had.

“Dr. Wilkes chose to fight Whitney for the zero matter,” he continues, “and Whitney chose to get involved with it in the first place.  Mrs. Jarvis – Ana – _chose_ to try and stop Whitney from taking Dr. Wilkes.  They all made choices, for what they believed to be the greater good, and you can’t take responsibility for the choices that other people have made.”

She swallows, looks up at him.  His face is plain and earnest and his eyes are so achingly kind that it almost hurts to look at him, knowing how much he cares for her, how much she cares for him.  Knowing how many times they were so precariously close to never being afforded the opportunity to have this conversation at all.

“We didn’t destroy the world,” she says softly, repeating his words from earlier that day.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and she wishes that his face would stay that way forever.  “That’s a win in my book,” he reiterates, and she leans into him, rests her head on his shoulder. 

“There’s still so much to be said, Daniel,” she breathes, and she thinks about everything that has brought them here, to this quiet, certain moment.

The sun is past the horizon, now, and he looks at her, his face illuminated in the rising moonlight.  “We’ve got time.”


End file.
